


Apollo, or: 4,618 year old who desperately needs therapy.

by macabremusic



Category: The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Apollo (Percy Jackson) is a Good Parent, Background Relationships, Gen, He's also sad, Heavy Angst, Like Really Fucking Sad, Therapy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 17,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabremusic/pseuds/macabremusic
Summary: As suggested by a commenter, Apollo needs therapy.
Comments: 96
Kudos: 142





	1. A Suggestion

"Dude, you should go to therapy." 

He chuckled lightly. Even so, it was a serious suggestion. He could tell by the tone of Percy's voice. 

"I'm serious. This might be weird, coming from me, but if you really felt like that, even if you don't anymore, you should probably see someone." He took a breath and then continued. "I, uh," -he whispered the next bit of his sentence- "I actually have one. Being a demigod hero or whatever really got to me. She's a legacy or something, she never elaborated, but she can see through the mist fine and most of her family lives at Camp Jupiter." He smiled to himself, as though remembering an inside joke that no one else knew. 

"Her name is Dr. Jill. She'll be able to help, maybe. Just think about it." 

Apollo wasn't even taken aback at receiving advice like this from a mortal. He hadn't really cared about the birth status of people interacting with him for some time now. Since his, ah, unfortunate encounter with being human, he had learned a few things. And he did, admittedly, appreciate the offer. Even if it made him feel a bit pathetic, it did help to think that someone cared about his mental health. Although he'd never admit it. 

"My mom has her number written down somewhere." 

Annabeth, who up until that point was engrossed in one of her textbooks, looked up. "You really should. I don't know you that well, but it's clear you've got some shit going on. And it really worked for Percy and I. Couples therapy, best thing to do on a Friday night." She said jokingly, linking her pinky with Percy's. 

It was an odd friendship, the one he had formed with the members of the Jackson residence, but upon finding out about Sally's new knack for poetry, he decided he should show how grateful he was for everything they had done for him, and what better way to give her pointers! He'd even babysat Estelle once, the small girl drew him a picture of him and his ukelele. Another thing he'd never admit is that he'd showed Hermes, who convinced him to frame the damn thing. 

He enjoyed hanging around the apartment, usually in the slightly altered form of Lester Papadopoulos. (Now that he could choose what he looked like, he would **not** be seen with acne or flab, no matter how much his personality had changed for the better.) It felt weirdly comfortable. 

And Sally Jackson could make some bomb blue-chocolate-chip cookies. 

Percy's mom did indeed have 'Dr. Jill's' number. She copied it down on a sticky note, and gave it to him, wishing him luck. He left soon after. 


	2. Calls

He called her. He wasn't sure why he called her, but fiddling with the dial on the radio in the Sun Chariot™ (Or, Sun Maserati, rather) was getting boring, and he was in a 'fuck it' kind of mood that day anyway. She answered after the second ring, which surprised him. He half expected no answer at all. 

"Hello, this is Dr. Jill Menendez, how can I help?" A cheerful voice was speaking to him, a voice belonging to an older woman, apparently the therapist Percy went to. 

_Fuck it._ "Hi, uh, my.. friend Percy recommended you to me?" The lady sounded pleasant enough, if not a little too happy to be receiving a call from an unknown number that apparently knew one of her patients. 

"Well, due to patient confidentiality, unless he has specifically mentioned you, you'll have to give me more than that." "Like what?" He was a little confused, if he was honest. 

"Your name would be good, for starters." 

He answered honestly, if not a bit nervous. "Apollo?" 

"First, **and** last name?" She asked. 

Last name. Last name. He didn't have a damn last name. He probably made one up for himself at some point, but that must have been several millennia ago, when he was only a child. 

He may as well elaborate. "This is gonna sound weird, so hear me out, but it's just Apollo. Unless my sister's mad at me, then she calls me Phoebus and I know to run."

"You know what? I think I have heard of you, I have a vacancy next Tuesday, if that's alright. I'll try and squeeze you in. Forgive me, but are you driving?" She asked. 

"Ooh uh, technically I'm just sitting here. See, the sun has a little autopilot button, so I usually just relax."

"The sun?"

He sighed. "The sun."

"Make it Monday, 5pm." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't how a therapist would talk, but I'm tired and too casual with all the ones I've been to s o


	3. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, his first session.

The meeting was planned. Now, what did he wear? 

Truth is, he had never stepped foot into a... where did he even go? Was it like a counseling office? 

He knew, where to go, like the directions and what room it would be in, and the start and end time, but he was a bit confused on what events would even take place inside? He knew the basic premise of therapy. You talked about your feelings and problems to someone who was supposed to listen, and maybe that would help a little bit. Maybe he could get a few things off his chest. Maybe not. 

So, one hour before the first therapy session he had ever been to in his extremely long life , he was standing in front of a full length mirror, trying to decide what the living hell he should wear. was it a formal occasion? Casual? What even was his sense of fashion anymore. But, he supposed, six months in a Led Zeppelin shirt and dirty pants was enough to mess with **anyone.** Even Aphrodite couldn't pull that off, and she once wore checkers and striped matched together and still looked amazing, so that's saying something. 

Semi-formal. Semi-formal it was. (Nice clothes, nothing he would wear while alone or with friends, but not so formal he was over dressing. He decided it would probably be best to just take on his old form, it was more appropriate, and he was keen on making a good first impression.

He wondered whether he should just show up in front of the building, or if it would be better to drive. Did he even own a car? Needless to say, it had been a while. 

He settled on "borrowing" one from Hermes, (a very loose term for basically stealing it from his brother, but the little shit owed him from the time he had covered for him while he was out drinking, so it was a fair trade.) and just driving it there. It was a private clinic, so the place was small and gray, but he really had no standard as to how an office like that should work or look like. he wasn't judging. 

Walking in, he felt slightly intimidated. Which, woah, was not at all like him. He didn't get intimidated. Ever. He had done far more terrifying things than walk into a fucking building to go to **therapy.** Jesus, he could feel his hands trembling a bit as he opened the door.

The room was small. Not cramped, and not uncomfortably so, but small enough that he was a bit surprised. He might have expected something.. ah, grander? The thought sounded silly when he thought about telling anyone that. _Not everything has to be fancy, Apollo. Get your head in the game and shake her hand, gods be damned!_

He did. Her smile was warm. 

They sat. 

"Well, let's get started. I take it you're wondering how I feel about the circumstances of this, specifically, who you are." And he had. Very much so. 

"While you're in here, I will treat you like any other patient. If there's any problem with that, don't hesitate to tell me, but I try to keep a standard for how I treat my clients. And yes, I am aware that you are a god. It's an odd thought, but I've seen worse, trust me." She continued. 

"These sessions last about an hour to two hours, usually I take people for an hour and a half, so that's how long I've scheduled this to be. I believe we already went over the requirements, you can sign here when you're ready." She handed him a paper with small writing, something he assumed to be a contract. 

"What do I uh, sign it with?" "Your name." She answered. 

"See, that's the thing. Do you mean my real, actual name, like the one my mother gave to me at birth? Or the English adaptation."

"Whichever one feels more comfortable. But I would prefer English, if you don't mind." 

"Of course." 

He signed it. In English. In his familiar, swirly handwriting. And shifted in the slightly uncomfortable chair. 

It seemed everything about this was going to be slightly uncomfortable. 

"If you'd like, we'll introduce ourselves? My name is Jill Menendez, I have a daughter and a son, Maria and Marco respectively, and we have three cats." 

"My name is Apollo. I currently have two sons and one daughter, Will, Austin, and Kayla respectively, and I don't have any pets, but I guess my horses count. I used to have cows, too. I live alone most of the time, if not then with my extended family, mother, or sister."

"Can you tell me about your family? What are they like?" 

Apollo assumed she was probably just trying to get him to open up, and if she knew Percy then she definitely knew **all** about his family. He answered anyway. 

"Well there's my father, Zeus. And his wife, Hera. And my many, many siblings or cousins. There's Hermes, he's my brother and I'm the closest friend he's got, there's Artie, that's Artemis, she's my older- my twin sister. But you probably already knew that." 

"I guess I did." She laughed warmly. Her arms were crossed as she leaned towards him, as though hanging on his every word. 

"And you two are close, you and your sister?" She asked. 

"I.. I guess you could say that? She's not around a lot, and sometimes we don't get along, but at the end of the day does any sibling, really?" 

"No, I suppose not. How about your brother?" 

"Oh we hang out a lot. Recently I've been trying to get him to interact with his kids more, I told him it would work wonders if he communicated or showed up for their birthdays or something, but he's stubborn and never listens to me anyways." 

"And do you.. interact with your children?"

"Of course I do! Now, anyway. They're great, really, I don't get why I never bothered before." 

"And why do you think you're here today?"

Oh. The fateful question. Why did he, a perfect, immortal, **idol** need to be sitting in a therapist's office? 

He wasn't even sure. He had known it was probably best that he get help, but he had never done anything about it up until this point.

"I'm not sure. I guess I thought it would help."

"Well that's what this is all about. You can treat this like a time where you can get anything that's on your chest off of it. For now, let's start small. What do you do on a day to day basis?" 


	4. Day to Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking about his life and what exactly a god is expected to do on a day to day basis 
> 
> short chapter because I'm shit at writing dialogue and my hands hurt

"What do I do?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you've hear anything from Percy, you'd probably know that I was human for a while about five years ago. Which sounds like a lot of time but I'm 4,000 so it's really not. I guess I wake up, sometimes pilot the sun if no other deity is doing it, and we've also got science for that but I enjoy it. If not, I take care of my horses, I... eat? I eat breakfast sometimes, and.. well that's where it varies. Depending on who I am that day." 

"It varies? You don't have a set schedule for yourself?"

"Well, no, so it does vary."

"Can you pick what you are doing each day?" 

"Most of the time, yes, if I'm not interacting with my father." "Does he make you have a schedule for that day then? Or is it more he doesn't let you do certain things." 

"If I do see him around, he usually asks me to do something, even though it's not really asking because I know I'll end up doing it, or makes me come to a counsel meeting."

"Do you enjoy these meetings? Or do they bore you." "It depends on what the meeting is about. Sometimes they'll make me go to war planning and I'm just sitting there like, I get why I'm here, with the archery and all, but you could call in my sister and she'd be ten times better at this." 

"Do you not like archery?" "No, I really do, but only on my free time, you know? I don't care so much about the war or hunting aspects of it."

"So you do it, when?" "When I'm trying to impress someone, or I want to make my sister mad by winning against her."

"And you win against her most of the time then?" "Ah... no. If I'm being honest, which I kind of have to be since I am the god of truth, she's a tiny bit better than me. Okay, she's just better than me." 

"Does that make you upset? That she's better." "Sometimes yes, but I can't really complain if I never practice." 

She stopped writing on the red notepad on her lap for a moment, and checked her watch. 

"We only have five minutes, I'm afraid. We'll pick up where we left off next time, alright? There's mints on my desk" -she gestured to a large bowl of life-savers- "you can take two. Same time next week?" She asked. 

"That sounds fine." 

"Alright. Buh-bye." 

He walked awkwardly out of the room as she took a call. _That was, uh... interesting? I guess._

It was... interesting. He wasn't sure what to make of the hour he spent in there. He would just have to wait until the next week to see what's in store. 


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next week rolls around, he delves a little more into what family is like amongst the gods.

The days blurred into one another. The only remarkable things that happened in the short period of time was taking Leto out to dinner with Artemis and Hermes, and the one meeting they all attended where he spoke for a few minutes. Other than that, the peak of his weak would be the next Monday that rolled around, where he would go back to the office for another session. 

He pulled on a jacket, taking the same form as their last meeting, even if he hadn't used it since. He'd dubbed it 'the therapy body' for anyone (who knew) and asked why he looked different on Monday's at 5pm. For the sake of his pride, he hadn't explicitly told anyone what he was doing, with the exception of his mother and Artemis. Well, those were the only gods who knew. He had told his son Will, who seemed oddly proud of him, and Meg, who didn't make any snarky comments for once. Plus Percy, and his own mother. 

So that was six people in the entire world who knew, not including himself or the doctor, of course. 

The air was cold and since he hadn't bothered to bring his, well Hermes' car, (or that's what he told Dr. Jill, in reality he was just too lazy to drive there, he'd much rather simply appear in front of the building instead.)

Which is exactly what he did, apparently scaring the hell out of a baby in its stroller, who started bawling. He hung his head and walked briskly inside. 

She was burning a candle that smelled like Autumn in her office. He enjoyed it. He'd always liked the smell of fall, the way you could inhale and feel like the air would make you float. 

"Welcome back."

"Hi."

"So last time, we left off where you were about to talk about your family? I believe you mentioned your brother. Has anything else of note happened since I've seen you?" 

"Ah.. not really. I-we took our mother out to dinner, but that's about it." "And was that nice?"

"Yeah, I liked it." And he had. Even if Artemis looked at him disgusted when he flirted with the waiter whenever he came to their table. He got a phone number out of it, so it was worth it. (Now, that's not to say Artemis had any problem with her brother flirting with men. She had turned several people who made rather.. ah, nasty comments about that into target practice. No, it was more simple than that. She got grossed out by flirting, period. It was one of the vast, many reasons they didn't always get along.) 

"Well, did you want to talk about our family?" "I..."

"We can talk about anything, you know. Or nothing at all. I like to set goals for each meeting. We could pick a topic and talk about it for a while, if you'd like." 

"Uh.. sure." He shifted in his seat, running his hands up and down his jeans. "My family."

"Where the hell do I even start?" 

"Anywhere you'd like. When I'm talking to people about my family, I usually start with my kids." 

"Well, I have three of them, right now. There's Will, he's my oldest, and his boyfriend Nico is essentially my son in law already, once he called me dad and since he didn't want to back out of it he helped make a birthday cake for me. Long story, anyway Will is a healer. There's also my other son, Austin. He's amazing at the saxophone. Like really, really good. Then there's my daughter Kayla, she got archery, and that's just because her mortal dad, yeah, long story, very confusing, is an archery instructor." 

"Do any of them get upset because, and I'm assuming here, they have different parents?" 

"None of them have ever mentioned anything to me, so I guess that's a no, but I've never asked." 

"Alright. Do you yourself feel awkward about it?" "Well when I was on my quest I was technically younger than Will, and that weirded me out, but other than that I don't feel weird around my kids."

"That's good to hear. A lot of parents with children from multiple or different people feel guilty about not staying with only one person." 

"I don't think I've ever felt like that. You know, since I've had children from multiple people for millennia." 

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking."

"This summer I had my 4,618th birthday." "That's a very long time." 

"I suppose it is." 

"Do you want to talk about your other family, or would you prefer not to."

He took out his phone to check the time. He could pretend to be busy? Maybe? 

It wasn't that he didn't like to complain about his family, if you could call it that. He did it all the time. 

If he was being honest with himself, he would realize that he was afraid to. 

He was afraid to say anything bad about his father. Or stepmother. Or siblings. He was scared they'd find out, and ban him from Earth.

Which sounds really irrational, but he almost was, on several occasions. At some point his father found out that he would rather be on Earth, and that keeping him off Olympus was doing him a favor. 

"I actually think I have to go. Yeah, I definitely have to go. I'm 99% certain I have an award speech in ten minutes."

"That's alright. I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, next week." 

He gave a little wave an exited the room. Dr. Jill Menendez wrote down on her notepad; _Seems to be avoiding mentioning non-human family._

She was right. 

He did not have any speech, not that he knew of. He played off his absence as being in Aeithales with Meg, and immediately went to bed. 

In his defense, talking about his problems with a stranger was getting awkward. He didn't want to open up to someone he barely knew. 


	6. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take a break from the standard therapy so (as suggested by a commenter) someone other than the Dr is going to react to some of the shit he's went through  
> sorry for the irregular updates and short chapter 
> 
> also: apollo and artemis have a good relationship and don't hate each other and i will not hear any other opinion, but this is gonna be angsty

He did not feel good. 

Now, good is a loose term. It can mean many things. In a stranger's case, it meant that they did not feel like a good person. In someone else's, it would mean that they were having a bad day and did not feel particularly happy. 

Apollo felt none of these. He felt physically unwell. 

It was a sense of unrest more than anything. He felt as though he wasn't actually making any progress. What was avoiding sensitive topics going to do for anyone? 

And it wasn't like he knew the lady. He'd much rather prefer to talk to someone that he knew, that he could sympathize with. 

Thing is, most people did not know him that well. 

Of course, they knew him; but that was more in a superficial sense. They knew who he was, they didn't know him, as him.

And mostly, he was okay with that. He didn't want just anyone to actually know him, that would be unprofessional. 

He was pathetic. 

Most of the day, he moped around. Like a loser. Like Lester. 

His head pounded, but he didn't have the energy to even attempt healing himself, and laying in bed staring at the ceiling was much easier. 

Minutes faded in and out. 

Hours. 

Maybe days, he wasn't sure. 

Occasionally, occasionally, his phone would give a quiet buzz, and he just **knew** that it was Hermes. He could sense it. 

He didn't answer. 

He didn't do anything. 

That is, until his sister called. 

He knew it was serious then. 

His sister **never, ever** called. 

**Ever.**

He was pretty sure he hadn't ever heard Artemis' voice over the phone. 

He was sure he hadn't heard her so worried in centuries.

"Where the hell have you been? Hermes has been calling you for literal days. Mom's been asking after you."

"I'm in my room." 

"Your room? Your fucking room, Apollon? Seriously? We've been looking for you."

"Well, you could've just checked my room."

"Which room? Because I swear upon a higher being than you if you're just drunk I will make you feel the full effects of a hangover."

"I thought you were in Canada."

"We are gods you moronic idiot. Of course I can just... you know what? Nevermind."

"Oh. My normal one. The one I'm in the most. Just.... just ask Hermes or something."

She hung up abruptly. He couldn't find it in him to care. 

It only took five minutes. He hadn't risen from his spot on the bed. 

"What is going on with you?"

"I'm in therapy, you know." He felt like laughing.

"For what?"

"You would know if you were around more." 

"You never even try to contact me! And I have responsibilities Apollo, I take my job seriously!"

"I don't 'contact' you because everytime we see each other you talk shit about me to your hunters."

"When have I ever done that?"

"Oh, one month and five days ago, I showed up to drop off new bows and while I was making small talk somehow the conversation steered into my bad poetry."

"That was a month ago! Can't you let things go for once?" 

"Well I'm sorry I don't like feeling like shit, okay? I'm sorry I avoid you because every damn time I see you, you insult me, and guess what? It fucking hurts! It hurts to know that I pour so much time into sharing with you something that makes me happy, and you just call it trash so easily! Hell, I know my goddamn haikus are bad. But guess what? It makes me fucking happy to appreciate the art form and I'm sick and fucking tired of giving a shit about what other people think! I'm sick of it Artemis! I try every damn day to be exactly like my old self, but I cannot find it in me to be needlessly happy and sunshiney all the time! What's the point anymore?" 

Artemis went silent for a few seconds. 

"I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry. I didn't think I was hurting you. I... honestly I wanted my hunters to hate you."

"Why would you want something like that?" His voice was threatening to crack. 

"Archery, the outdoors, hunting... It's my whole life. And sometimes I guess I just want to be the center of attention. Just once. And it makes me feel.. insecure sometimes to know that everyone credits you for what I do, you know?"

"Shit, yeah. I do know." He laughed shakily. "They do realize I'm not the one who invented all those tricks, right? I still don't have all of them perfect."

She smiled a bit. It was a small smile, a sad one, but her brother would take what he could get. 

She sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to her. 

"I'm lucky to have you Artie, you call me out on my shit."

"And I you, brother."

"Where are we? Seventeenth century England? Keep up with the times goddamnit!"

He fell back on his bed with a thud. 

"Genuinely though, why have you been going to therapy?" She asked quietly. 

"I thought that I should maybe pull my life back on track, you know?"

"What do you, ah... talk about?"

"Well I want to talk about what happened, my stabbing myself first and foremost, then I want to learn how to properly grieve in a way that's not so.. extreme."

"Hold on. What was that first part?"

"Oh, I want to talk about my trials?"

"No, the... the next bit."

"How I stabbed myself? With the arrow, remember?"

"What?" She wasn't angry, genuine fear flickered across her face. 

"I...."

"You.. you stabbed yourself? With an arrow?"

"Are you mad at me?" He looked like he would cave in on himself.

"Mad at you? Shit, no 'Pollo I'm not mad. Why... why did you do it?" Her tone was soft, like that of someone speaking to a fragile child. 

"I thought.. I thought it would protect everyone. Because if I died, then they couldn't use me and everyone would be safe." 

He turned slowly towards her for any reaction. 

She pulled him into a hug. 

Artemis had not hugged him in quite some time. 

It felt nice. Homey, like that's what he had been missing these days.

And although his ego and pride would never admit it, he was crying. And trying not to sniffle so loud she heard it. 

They stayed like that for a while, until Apollo pulled his head back upwards and she released her arms. 

"You should see Hermes."

"I should."


	7. Hermes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation

Hermes' phone rang. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Three times.

After the third ring, he picked up. He had a habit of waiting a few seconds before answering phones, it made him look busy when all he was doing was pacing the streets of Manhattan and worrying. He had been worrying for five days now. 

Apollo wasn't anywhere to be found, he was coming up on a deadline for his latest ideas, and Olympus was in general unrest since Apollo's return. Everyone was left feeling uneasy, both at Zeus for leaving him to die, and Apollo for.. not dying. 

He was no god of prophecy, but he knew what the future held for his brother. A most certainly negative end. 

Or so they'd thought.

When he'd crawled his way back to Olympus, bloody and beaten and broken, all of them had to hold it together.

After all, not all of them wanted the punishment to happen. 

Hermes himself nearly threw up when he watched Apollo stab himself in the chest. At least Artemis wasn't watching. 

Although both of them swore not to mention it, they had cried together many, many times during those six months.

But Apollo was back, and that's what mattered.

Now, where was he?

Where was he? He had been wondering that for five days. Apollo had seemingly been vanishing every week, (Hermes assumed it was just another fling with some mortal Apollo didn't want him to tease about at first, but he often came back looking exhausted or avoiding everyone to go to bed.) and this time he had come back, left no explanation, and vanished into near thin air. 

Hermes then thought he was drunk.

Or sleeping.

Or other various activities that Hermes wouldn't want to intrude upon. 

But it became worrying when he tried calling.

And calling.

And calling. 

No answer.

That was unlike him.

He always picked up when Hermes called him. They had each other on speed dial, ever since phones were invented. 

He sighed. 

"Hiya, this is Mr. Hermes, god of travelers, thieves, and other various achievements, how can I help you?"

"Hermes."

_Oh._

After Artemis had left, Apollo took a deep breath, and called his brother. 

Hermes deserved to know what was going on. And he had missed him, as annoying as his little brother was, he had missed his pranks and the way he made fun of their father behind his back, and how he could nearly beat Athena at scrabble sometimes, and he had missed him. 

"Hiya, this is Mr. Hermes, god of travelers, thieves, and other various achievements, how can I help you?" 

He held back a sob.

"Hermes." 

Hermes was there in an instant, travelling through space and time to try and see why, why exactly it sounded like Apollo had been crying. 

It was, evidently, because he was crying. 

At least, before he pulled him into a tight hug, there were tears in his eyes. 

Hermes was not a very loyal person, but at that moment, he knew that he would destroy whoever made his brother feel like that. 

He felt a strange, overwhelming urge to protect him.

Usually, Apollo was the one who protected him. When he got upset, Apollo was there in seconds and the murder in his eyes was enough to send them running. 

Then they'd get icecream or something that would cheer him up, something sweet or something fun. 

He had never had to cheer up Apollo before. 

The thought seemed absurd. Apollo never needed cheering. He was a naturally happy person, and if he was in any distress, no one knew. 

Apollo was still crying. Why was he still crying?

Hermes began to take notice that his appearance was rapidly shifting, trying to pick a body that he felt most comfortable. 

He decided on no body at all, or not what would normally be described as one. 

This was serious, then. Apollo had always liked to remain pretty permanently in a more human form, it was rare for him to give up the act entirely. 

Hermes did not let go. Neither of them did.

Eventually, he slowly lead Apollo to the couch, but not before giving him blankets and making sure that he wouldn't freak out if Hermes were to get up and possibly leave.

He was not going to, but it was best to know how Apollo would react to the notion that he was. 

One of them turned the TV on. 

He decided to just leave the default channel on, which was a program about painting. 

He could tell Apollo did not want to talk about whatever was bugging him, and that was okay with him. 

They could just sit there, watching the same show until both of them inevitably fell asleep. 

And they did. 


	8. Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to actually show him interacting with Percy and his family since I implied they were friends

Hermes was gone when he awoke. 

He wasn't even upset, which was a start. It was a bare minimum, but it was a start. And his head felt clear, his hands were more steady, and he could walk without feeling tired. He felt good. And it wasn't entirely where he wanted to be, but it was a start. He felt happy. He had made up with the two people that meant so much to him, and he was going to get his life together. It felt nice. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, and he didn't see a flaw in Lester. For once, even the acne couldn't bother him. Who cared? Who cared what he was going to look like anyway? 

Yes, he'd go to the Jackson apartment. Unless they had plans, (which they didn't, other than Percy, who was visiting Camp. On second thought, he should probably take a trip to camp as well. It would be nice to see his kids again, even if he visited the week before.) He would go, and take serious advantage of the seven layer bean dip that Sally Jackson made. When he said it was famous, he meant he brought it back and now several gods were hooked, including his mother. Say, she really should meet Sally in person. He made a mental note of it in his brain. 

What time was it? He had forgotten that he could simply know the answer to that, and spent several minutes looking around for his phone, again having forgotten that he could just summon it. 

One o'clock wasn't too early, was it? He was still learning a normal, human sleep schedule, and that apparently i-messaging Austin at the exact second he was born was rather "inappropriate", since he was born at 4:23(am.) But one was after lunch, wasn't it? 

He kept thinking as he got dressed, taking on a younger body then the one from the last night, looking around the same age Percy was when they met. (Technically, he had met Percy when he was only fourteen, but that didn't exactly count as the boy almost died while in his care. Yeah.) He just wanted to look normal. Not ugly, not unnecessarily attractive, just normal. Plain. There was a comfort in having people look at him like he was just another normal person, on the streets of New York City. 

And should he walk? One time he just appeared inside the house, and scared Paul so bad he had to sit down. It was embarrassing, to say the least. He had left early. 

Now, he cared a little more whether he bothered them. He wouldn't have some five years ago, and that meant that he had changed a bit, right? 

He decided to teleport to an alley and simply walk to their apartment. It was less suspicious, and _oh that is a crime scene. That is definitely a crime scene._ He picked up his pace. 

He knew the Jackson's lived near the top of the apartment building, but he had honestly forgotten just how tiring it was to climb five flights of stairs. At least he wasn't mortal. For a while, it had been hard to believe that anyone would have wanted to live in a small place like this. Especially Percy. I mean, he had been on numerous quests and had risen to fame amongst the demigods of his generation, so forgive Apollo if he assumed his room would be fancier. 

But it didn't matter so much now that he was there often. It may be small, but it had a sort of comforting feel to it, like a lived-in place. That was unnatural to Apollo, who had only known expensive, modern things and people that were cold. 

He made it up the stairs, and buzzed in. "It's me!" 

They'd know who it is, even if he looked slightly different every time he came (which, again, freaked Paul out, but what can you do.) 

He was let in with a smile. Estelle was probably sleeping, which made his yell a bit unwelcome, but his presence was fine. 

There was something in the oven that smelled suspiciously like cookies. Great! He gave a genuine smile. He loved those things, even if they were probably unhealthy. And wasn't he supposed to care about that, as the god of healing and science? Probably. 

He most likely did at some point too, but now he honestly could not give a shit what he was putting in his body. 

"Smells great, Ms Jackson."

"That's Mrs. Blofis to you, my lord." She was smiling as she said it. 

"And that's Apollo to you!" He took a seat on the couch. "How's everything been going?" 

"Pretty good, how about you?" "It's been alright, I guess." 

"That's good to hear, I'm glad. Would you like a cookie when they're done?"

"You know I can't resist them, they're infamous."

She chuckled. "Paul, be a dear and check the oven?" 

He gave her a thumbs up. 

Apollo took a moment to survey his surroundings. There was a pot of daisies on the windowsill, and the sun hit them just right. He felt like taking a picture. But that would likely be weird, since it was someone's house. He decided against it.

"How's the poetry coming?" He asked loudly. 

Sally smiled back at him, a warm, motherly smile. She really did remind him of Leto. "Great, I'm learning rhyme scheme." 

"Good luck with that. Some poets come up with their own, and lemme tell you, it is infuriating trying to figure them all out." 

"Well, I've only got up to ABAB CDCD EFEF GG." 

"That's a whole sonnet! You should be proud!"

"Paul's been encouraging me." She turned to her husband, who was looking over some notes at the table. He glanced up and smiled. 

They were everything a married couple should be. Apollo wondered how different he would feel about his family if Zeus and Hera truly loved one another. Or if his mother had found someone who treated her better. Everything would be nicer, for one. He wouldn't have been such an asshole all these years. Being a god would feel better. 

They had cookies some time after. They were soft and tasted delicious. And he was happy with how the day was going. 

Unfortunately, as every god knows, Zeus is a dick. He felt himself being violently pulled upwards. 


	9. A/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note

I am very sorry to disappoint since this fic has gotten so much positivity, but it will be much harder for me to update consistently from now until about a week. 

I'm going to write as much as I can today, but tomorrow I leave for my grandparents house since my mom is getting surgery, (she's okay, it's nothing life threatening) and they only have like one ancient computer that I can't use properly. 

I'm actually really surprised at the love this is getting, 400 views is the most I've gotten on any of my works. Which in some aspects is a bit annoying, because not to sound ungrateful, but I have put much more effort into my other things, specifically Efflorescence. And I'm not trying to complain or guilt anyone into reading, I simply expected that to be liked more. 

Again I'm super grateful to all of you and the comments you leave, I promise I read every single one and they all make my day.

Much Love, 

Milo 


	10. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Updates will continue like normal!

Fortunately, the meeting passed without much effort on his part. He spoke up about once, and it was after his father left the room and they were filing out. And even then, it was only to make plans with Artemis, and that didn't count as effort. 

The weekend passed, fast and fun and it flew by his eyes in a second. He enjoyed it. He really enjoyed it. But Monday was a welcome. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight streamed in through the window of Dr. Jill's office. She was pleasantly surprised at his active listening, and how he hadn't turned down a question yet. 

"Do you happen to remember what happened before the events of your... trials?" 

He drew a blank. "Not exactly. I remember... lots of yelling, and my mom pleading with my father, and I know the fall hurt, but no." 

_Either does not remember what took place, or is unwilling to share._

"Well, that's alright. How did it start?"

He recounted the first major events. How he was reminded of Icarus, falling from the sky. And what cruel irony being in his place felt like. 

He told her all about the body, his body, being all wrong and uncomfortable.

"And you felt a discomfort, looking the way you did? You described it as being 'wrong'." 

"Well, yes. I had never looked like that before. It unnerved me."

He remembered being told to get over it, that there was nothing to be done and that he looked normal and 'gods, Apollo, stop whining', but he didn't. He didn't look normal, and it was all wrong. 

"What indicated the wrongness? What part of your body was the most different?" 

"Everything. I was shorter, and more pale and just not me. And my face was wrong."

"What about your face?"

He paused for a moment. 

"My eyes were brown. I don't have brown eyes." 

And indeed he didn't. He never had. And these brown eyes weren't pretty or bright or unique in any way, they looked murky, and human, and **wrong.**

"Was that... scary, to you? Not looking like your normal self." 

"Very." 

_Feelings of distress when placed in an environment/situation that is unusual._

"If it makes you feel any better, I understand. That's a perfectly normal thing to feel when confronted with something unfamiliar." 

He needed to hear that. That it was normal. That he wasn't crazy, and feeling fear or discomfort was not unusual. That it was okay. He was going to be okay. 

"What did you feel towards your family during this time?"

"I.. I didn't really hate any of them.. I resented my father for punishing me so harshly, and I wished my sister would have helped me, but it's against the Divine Laws to force yourself onto another's quest. That's kinda why we have demigods." 

"How do you feel about these quests? Do you believe they are fair?" 

"I did, once. But after being on like five? No way." 

She paused once more to write something down, and glanced up at the clock. It was nearing 7. 

"Oh, I think we've gone a little past our time here, but I'll see you next week, alright?" 

"Alright."

The walk out of her office filled him with disappointment. He knew he shouldn't feel like this, not when he'd been having such a good day, but he couldn't help but be a bit bummed that they didn't get to talk for longer. He was really trying to open up! 

It would be alright, though, he told himself. He was not going to let this be a setback on what had been motivation. He'd go home. He'd do something productive. He'd go to sleep.

Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow he could make even better. 


	11. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mini chapter because I have a whole ton going on right now and I'm leaving for the weekend today. Again, really sorry to disappoint but my motivation to write this is dimming.   
> I'm not stopping though! I'll just be on a little hiatus for like 3 days.

Apollo's next day was supposed to be relaxing. That's all he wanted to do. Relax. 

He had near cleared out his schedule for the week with his sudden motivation the night previous, and he now that he had nothing to do and was extremely tired, he took the day to actually drive. The sun. 

Most days, he'd simply lay back and play on his phone or something, only half trying to look like he was actually doing something as he landed. Today, he was going to actually drive. 

He enjoyed driving. He liked taking it slow, taking road trips and doing other general slow-paced car activities. 

He really only figured out his liking for long, slow drives, after he had been in a police chase with Hermes. As the driver. 

So now he was definitely just going to relax. Maybe turn on the radio, listen to something other than himself for a while. Music was ever changing, and he really ought to check up on who even was considered a celebrity these days. 


	12. Coffee

"You've seemed particularly talkative these past few weeks. Has anything changed?"

They were finishing up a session. Apollo was eager to get home, as it was game night and he was determined to beat Artemis at charades. 

"I guess I've just been in a happy mood.' He answered, and it was true. He had been in a happy mood for about a week. And he had been opening up during therapy. 

"That's nice to hear. Any follow up from your sister?" 

That's right, he had told her about their plans to go camping together that weekend. Preparations were in full swing, he was already packed in anticipation.

"Yeah, we're still on."

"Good, good. Okay, we have about five minutes before you have to go. Anything else you'd like to mention?"

"Nope." He was actively controlling his stomach to keep it from rumbling.

"Okay!" She waved, concluding their meeting and indicating that he could leave. For a second, he wondered what would happen if he just stood there, but he made his way out the door. 

Cold night air blew into his face as he exited the building. He never liked the wind (for personal reasons), but it was welcome since he was coming from the overheated office. 

And damn, he really was hungry. He supposed he could just stop at a drive through. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Content, he sipped his ice coffee and drove down the freeway. 

He liked contentment. It was one of the finer things in life, to be utterly satisfied with yourself in the moment, even with the knowledge it wouldn't last.

Content, he drove. 

Content, he thought about calling the waiter from weeks before. They had texted, it was nice. 

Content, he thought about all the things he had done, and how he had ended up there, in that moment, drinking iced coffee on a highway in his brother's car. 

He definitely liked contentment.


	13. Camping, Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis is best sister. Fight me.

Time is a very fluid concept to immortals, especially Apollo. As the god of prophecy, he was always getting mixed up with the dates and lengths of things. One time, he spent nine whole years in service of king Admetus, simply because he mixed up his punishment with a prophecy. 

But king Admetus was very pretty, and very single, however, so that was a definite plus. 

But his lack of time conception was a flaw to him. Sometimes he forgot important, or enjoyable things. 

"Does this thing.. does this thing work? Thalia, how does this.. you just speak into it? Oh. Hello brother." 

Apollo had been suppressing a laugh with his hand. He was glad she couldn't see him. 

"Apollo?" He cleared his throat, ready to speak. 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you not coming camping with us? You said you'd be here by ten." 

"Artie, it's only Thursday..."

"What are you talking about? It's Saturday, you said you were busy Friday so you'd come today..."

He internally smacked himself. Of course! Of course it he had messed up the dates, that's just his luck. 

"Right, right. Where are you, I'll pack."

"...We packed together on Tuesday, Apollon, are you feeling well?" 

"No, yeah, wait I mean... yes I'm fine. I'm great! Just busy." 

"I'll just come to you then." "Good, good, I'll see you in a few." 

_Dammit. I thought my memory loss was gone by now?_

He did indeed assume that since his time as Lester had ended, so had the loss of memory that plagued him. He was awfully tired of relying on the Arrow of Dodona for advice on things he should be able to know in an instant.

But that thought only brought back painful memories of his quest, and so he started looking for his apparently packed clothes. 

He found them underneath his bed, nicely organized by group, in a suitcase. At least they were there, he supposed, because Artemis appeared behind him moments later. 

He spun around. "Oh hi! Haven't seen you in a while!"

"Are you certain you're not ill? I.. we.. I saw you four days ago, I visited here for the day?"

He had no memory of the event. 

"Oh, right. Just.. said that out of habit, I guess." And maybe he had! Seeing his sister used to be rare. But that thought still didn't shake the unease at his amnesia. 

"If you're busy or.. or you don't want to go that's alright. I understand."

Physically, Artemis had always reminded him more of their father, but at that moment Apollo saw a striking resemblance to Leto. 

"No, I'm coming. I'm definitely coming." 


	14. Camping, Pt. 2

The forest was an array of greens, from barely there ones to the deepest Apollo had ever seen. And surprisingly, the trees did not loom down at him or start whispering. It was a nice change of pace. 

And astonishingly, her hunters did not look at him with annoyance. Artemis must have spoken with them. They did look at him with pity, which wasn't much better, but it was a start. 

It was a small group, of maybe five, and Artemis later told him they were the most inexperienced. The rest were being led by Thalia, still hunting in Canada. 

He halfheartedly wondered if the dryads would object to his presence, or maybe they learned about all he did in California? He wasn't in a rush to ask. 

"It's pretty." Was all he said. And it was, truly. But his mind was still racing with just **how** he could have forgotten all the plans he had made? 

"It is, isn't it?" A younger girl, **maybe** 8, if that, answered. He turned towards her. She had messy red hair, chopped to her shoulders in wisps (probably by herself, he doubted Artemis knew anything about hair care.) Her silver coat was a size too big, her boots as well. Freckles adorned her face, wide blue eyes staring up at him gleefully. He bent down. 

"Yeah. Say, what's your name?" The girl was far too young to have left home for this. _She must be a rogue demigod then._ Of course, Artemis did take in mortals, but there was a gleam in her eyes that Apollo was certain he had seen before. 

"Aoife." She grinned at him, revealing gapped teeth. 

"That's a very nice name you got there. Do you know who I am?" 

"Nope!"

One of the older girls spoke up. "That's Le-"

_Please don't say Lester. Please don't say Lester. Please don't say-_

"-ster."

_God fucking dammit_

"Well, nice to meet 'ya, Lester." 

He turned to his sister. She was very intently studying her bow, looking sheepish. 

"No, sorry, but my name is not Lester," -He made sure to emphasize that point, turning to glare in Artemis' direction- "it's Apollo." 

She giggled. "You have the same name as Lady Artemis' brother."

How come Artie didn't tell them he was coming?

She continued. "And we've never met him, but Lady Artemis says he's very silly. And he makes bad po...poems. And he's an id-i-ot." 

He made a mental note to shoot his sister when he got the chance.

A girl a little older than Aoife gave her a nudge. "Aoife that's-"

A few feet away, Artemis cleared her throat. The girls stood at attention. Apollo copied them, just for fun. _I look like a giant; they're all so tiny..._

"As you all know, lieutenant Thalia is away with the rest of our team. I have selected you all for proper training, since you're new. You might be wondering, why do I look different? This is because my brother here-" she gestured to him "-doesn't want to be the only adult."

They looked at him and giggled, pushing and nudging each other around. 

"Plus, this is a better way for you all to see me as a teacher." 

"Uhh.. Lady Artemis?" 

"Yes, Lila?" 

"Which brother is this? You have like a million." 

More giggles ensued. She walked up to him.

"Just introduce yourself, get it over with." He walked up to the front of the room? Forest? Group would be the most accurate comparison. 

"Uh.. Hello? My name is Apollo. I'm Art- Lady Artemis' brother. Her.. her twin brother. I'm uhm.. I'm the god of music, poetry, prophecy and other things, including archery, which is why I'm here." 

He wasn't, but that was the logical explanation. 

"I thought Lady Artemis was the god.. goddess of archery." 

That he could answer. 

"We invented it together when we were kids, so it's only fair that we share the title. However, my sister does far more with it then me." 

The kids collectively "oh'd."

"Why don't we get started, huh?" Artemis clapped her hands together. 

_Yeah. Let's._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note that Aoife is pronounced "ee-fa"


	15. Camping, Pt. 3

Apparently "Let's get started." meant 'Let's force Apollo to teach a bunch of barely teenaged girls how to shoot'. 

He ended up with two kids, and Artemis took the other three. Montana and Aoife, those were the ones he had to teach. 

Hell, he wasn't even aware that's what he was going to be doing! He thought this was gonna be a nice camping trip, and he'd be able to talk to his sister in peace, and quiet. But nooo, now he's gotta teach tiny kids how to shoot with a potentially deadly weapon. 

And Aoife kept asking him questions, about who he was and what he did and how come she'd never seen him before, until Apollo eventually just promised that he'd answer all her queries at dinner, but only if she was good and followed directions. 

Montana was having a much easier time hitting the targets, which Apollo credited to her height. She was tall for her age, and bony, with dark skin and coily hair that she wore tightly braided. 

Aoife... not so much. She could hit it fine, but it took a bit to get her to stop being scared of hitting herself. She said pointy things creeped her out, and Apollo wondered why she joined in the first place then, before thinking that maybe she had no choice. 

They continued their practice until lunch time, when Aoife practically begged him to sit with her and Artemis didn't look sympathetic. She just shrugged as he was pulled away to another log. 

He did not want to eat on a log, one that was probably infested with bugs, but you know what? He'd been in far more uncomfortable situations. 

"Do you really drive the sun around?" She asked. Apollo had almost forgotten his promise to talk to her. 

"Yes, I do." 

"Is it super hot? Do you sit on top of it, like a sled?" 

"No, it's a car. A Maserati. And no, it feels normal. To me. Maybe I'm used to it, I dunno." 

"Huh. Is it true that you tripped and fell when you were trying to impress a pretty lady? That's what Lady Artemis... your sister told us." 

The blood rushed to his face. His ears had to be on fire. 

_I'm gonna kill my bastard of a sister-_

"I think that means yes. How old are you?" 

"I'm about 4,600, why?" 

"Woaaaaaaah. You're super old." 

"Yeah, yeah, eat your sandwich, and hush." He stood up, walking towards Artemis. 

He sat frustrated next to her. "Would you mind to tell me why you didn't tell them I was coming?"

She shrugged. "Not enough time?" 

He lowered his voice. "Bullshit. C'mon Artie, I thought this was gonna be fun?" 

"It **will** be fun, just hang in there. We're doing far more tomorrow anyway. And... these kids are really excited to meet you. Gods I hate saying that." She made a sour face. "Well, some of them are, anyway. I see you've met Aoife." 

"Yeah, why?" 

"She was really happy to hear you were coming. She's still, ah.. adjusting to the whole 'gods are real and you're a demigod' thing."

"Oh. Well, she's a sweet kid, I just... I dunno." He took a bite of his own sandwich, which he had been neglecting. 

_Bologna. Ugh._

He hated bologna. It reminded him a bit too much of the texture of human. Long story. Tantalus. **Don't** ask. 

"I think I'm gonna take a walk. I.. I'll be back."

"Alright. Try to be here in an hour?"

"Sure Artie, whatever." He gave a little wave, and wandered into the dense forest. 


	16. Camping, Pt. 4

The water from the bank he dipped his legs into was cold, but he didn't mind. He could regulate his body temperature anyways. 

He was disappointed. He wasn't sure why he was disappointed. This was supposed to be fun, why was he upset?   
  


He just wanted to have time with Artemis.   
_You **are** having fun. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.   
_

He felt like shit. And nothing had gone wrong yet! They were having a nice time! Artie was trying to connect with him, in her own way.   
  


He guessed he was just overreacting. He knew his sister had to work, she had stuff to do and couldn’t mope around like a **loser.** Like him.   
  


He wondered if the kids really were excited to see him. If he deserved it. If he even deserved being a god, if now that he was back, he’d completely forget all he learned about being human.

But that was for the best, wasn’t it? Everyone was already expecting him to go back to his old ways, why shouldn’t he act like he used to? 

But truth be told, he didn’t want to. He never liked Olympus. He pretended to, for the sake of his reputation. He never liked their stupid council meetings or the speeches he’d have to sit through, or give.

The lectures. Gods, the lectures. And the fact that he was so stupid, so weak that he felt like cowering at a statue.   
_A fucking statue, Apollo, really?  
_

He was better than this. He’d have to be better than this. If those little girls were excited to see who he used to be, than he’d put on a show.

———————————————————————

Artemis startled him out of his trance by poking him on the shoulder. 

“Are you gonna come back? We were looking for you.”

”Yeah, I was going to, it’s just...” 

“What?”   
“Were they actually excited to meet me, or are you trying to make me feel better?” 

He said it. Gods above, he said it and now it was all ruined, all ruined and Artie would go back to being so cold and he would have to be selfish again and- 

“Yes. They were asking about you all week. They heard of all you’ve accomplished.” 

_Oh. How stupid am I?_

“Yeah, of course I’m coming. What’s next?”   
_____________________________________


	17. Love & Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven't updated these past few days since I've been finishing up Tower of Nero. That's why a lot of the characters from the later books are kind left out, but I'll expand on them

Camping with Artemis, like all good things, must come to an end. 

He felt oddly relieved when he returned back to his palace on Mt. Olympus. The trip was fun, but he still had that lingering feeling of forgetfulness, like there was something he was missing. Something he had to do. 

Of course, he had many godly responsibilities. But he felt as though he should be remembering something from his time as a mortal. So he tried recounting the events of his punishment. 

_I found Meg, and then we met up with Percy Jackson, we went to Camp Halfblood-_

Camp Halfblood. It was something to do with Camp Halfblood. He knew it, the anxiety in his gut kept rising as he remembered the struggles there, the whispers from Dodona, the constant fainting, the battle... 

_No, back up a little bit. Before the battle. What came before the battle?_

The visions, more fainting, the uselessness. 

_Visions. Visions?_

Yeah! The Grove of Dodona whispering to him, his memories of tragedy, the vision of Daphne, the ghost of-

_No. No, no, no Apollo, you are **not** going back to your delusions about being able to bring him back. He's dead, remember? He's gone. It's over and done with, and nothing in the world could possibly change the fact that you'll never ever see him again. _

_I miss him so much._

And he did. He had for millennia. To the point where you couldn't mention the man's name without that feeling of dread and guilt weighing on him, crushing him with an iron fist. 

And he knew it was delusional, to think that hallucinating about his ghost visiting him was actually real, that it wasn't just his father playing games with him, that he was even worthy of being with him, but he liked it. 

He enjoyed the idea of being good enough. But he wasn't, was he? No, he "commemorated" him for his own selfish gain. Maybe if they hadn't ever met, maybe if Apollo made him a god, maybe if, if, if, if, if, if, if....

He enjoyed the idea of Hyacinthus loving him. Loving him completely, since no one ever had, really. 

But what if he didn't even truly love him, if the mortal was simply basking in the benefits it gave him, if Apollo really wasn't good enough, even for him. 

What if he was alive? Would they even still love one another? Would Hyacinthus hate who he'd become?

Would he? Would... would he still love Apollo after seeing him like this? 

_I'm insane. I'm so bloody fucking insane to even think that he'd.. that he'd even take a second glance at me._

He was so fucking worthless, wasn't he? Wasn't he? He had ruined lives, ruined the life of Hyacinthus, and Daphne, and Coronis, and Cyparissus, and Admetus, and the countless others he thought he'd "loved." Love. So cruel, isn't it? 

Why did love need to be so cruel to him? 

He'd cried over it, countless dozens of times, how ugly and mean love could be. But did he even deserve it? 


	18. Hermes.. again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being reminded of Hyacinthus, Apollo runs into Hermes who suggests something...

Apollo had been crying, Hermès could tell. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, he had tissues sticking out of his pocket. Hermès was concerned. He did know full well that the process to recovery from his trials would be slow, and likely painful, but he didn't expect crying so soon after the camping trip he had suggested Artemis take him on. It was going to be fun, they had planned it together, a rare occasion all things considering. 

But Apollo didn't seem upset about his trials when Hermès coaxed him to talk about it. He was babbling in Ancient Greek. The words seemed odd coming from him, like he had an accent. Usually they used the standard greek, but this was likely a specific dialect, one that Hermes was not all that familiar with. 

"Hey, could you use the standard, 'Pollo? I can't quite understand some of the things you're saying." Apollo buried his head further into his arms, but nodded slightly. This time, Hermès could make out the sounds. He seemed to be repeating the same thing over and over, which wasn't a good sign. 

"Are you prophesying right now? Should I give you some space?" Back in ancient times, when they were far younger and Apollo was still getting a grasp on how to handle the prophecies, he got very upset and sometimes physically ill from the over exertion. He never liked people comforting him then, and Hermes knew it was usually best to leave him alone for a bit, even if just to recharge. 

Apollo shook his head vigorously. _Well, that's a good sign, at least. Maybe he'll want to talk soon._ Hermes thought. He focused on attempting to at least get Apollo in a chair or something, not just on the floor of his room. Slowly, slowly, he guided Apollo over to his bed, and sat him down.

His hands were still covering his face, but odd looking purple things were falling from them and collecting in his lap. Hermès stared at them for a few seconds, but decided to move on. 

Apollo was still repeating the phrase over and over, and only when Hermès leaned to rub his back did he catch the meaning. 

_Hya... hyacinth? Hyacinthus? Who's..... oh. **Oh.**_

Of course he knew what his brother was sobbing over! Hyacinthus, his lover, the prince from Sparta all those years ago! And obviously he knew why! Gods, he should have noticed earlier! 

"Hey, hey, it's alright. Hug?" He spoke softly, holding out his arms so Apollo would hopefully have someone to cry on. He seemed to accept the hug, burying his head into Hermès' shoulder, still breathing erratically but with significantly less tears. 

Apollo finally spoke. “I.. when I was.. on Earth, I saw him. I know it was him. He told me about the cave of Trophonius, but then he faded and... how could he have known?”   
  


Hermès was skeptical of his brother’s story. As much as he wanted to believe it, (and he knew just how much pain Apollo felt, he desperately wanted to believe it) he couldn’t help but think that maybe Apollo was having a bit of a breakdown.   
  


“Are you sure? You’re certain it was him?”   
“Yeah. I’m sure.” He drew in a shaky breath. 

“He was really there, Hermès, I’m not crazy.”   
“I don’t think you’re crazy, ‘Pollo, it’s just.. never mind.”   
He changed his mind about telling Apollo of his worries, realizing it would only upset him further. 

“Just what?”   
He sighed. “You’re sure it wasn’t someone tricking you?”   
  


It didn’t seem to upset the god as much as Hermès thought, which might be a good sign. 

“I know it wasn’t. You had to be there, Hermès, it... the way he spoke. It was him.” 

This should be thrilling news, Hermès supposed, but he didn’t want to propose anything without being sure. 

“You know what? Hey, do you want me to go and check? I have lists of every soul! If he’s not on there, we can figure something out, alright?” 

“... Okay. I have an appointment tomorrow anyway. But... Hermès?”

”Yeah?” 

“What if he’s.. what if he’s really down there?”   
“If he is, I’m willing to bet my entire bank account Artie and your mom will be upset, and we can do something fun.” 

“Okay. And Hermès?”

”Hmmm?” He had already made his way to the door.   
  


“Love you.”   
“I love you to Apollo.” 


	19. From Pluto... to the Pleiades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermès goes to the Underworld to see if Hyacinthus is a shade.  
> Apollo goes to therapy.

Flying is not a problem when you are a god. Especially not when you’re Hermès, and you have cool flying sneakers that will take you down to the Underworld.   
  


Hermès was determined to find out whether his brother’s lover was indeed in the Underworld, or if his soul was preserved in the hyacinth. 

He hoped it was the latter; if it wasn’t getting Hyacinthus back to Apollo would prove to be near impossible. He wished he were the god of luck. 

He knew how much Apollo missed Hyacinthus, he knew it well. His poor brother had been missing someone he admitted was likely the love of his life for centuries. 

And with all that had been going on, Apollo deserved a little happiness.   
_____________________________________

Apollo was restless after Hermès left, pacing his room and waiting for the day to end. He had already had enough of this Sunday, and tomorrow he would go back to seeing Dr. Jill. 

How he hoped Hermès didn’t find Hyacinthus on the list. He shouldn’t, anyway.

Apollo had preserved Hyacinthus’ soul inside that damned flower, and he was certain it wasn’t for nothing. 

Still, it was better to check. 

He was nervous. Sure, if it didn’t work out, everyone would be upset and comfort him, but he would feel even worse than before. 

But somehow, knowing this was a last resort made him feel a bit better. Like maybe if it didn’t work out, he could move on in a way? 

Then he felt guilty for even thinking he could move on from that.   
_Who am I to move on? It’s my fault anyway._

He felt like he was being selfish. Why should he make Hermès help him like this? Hermès shouldn’t care about his problems.   
____________________________________

First stop, he’d need to visit his own place. He was certain there was some decent flying sandals in his hoard of shoes!  
There had to be.

After searching for barely more than five minutes, he decided to just teleport. It may scare the shit out of Cerberus, but this was important, wasn’t it? 

Although he did suppose if Hyacinthus had spent several millennia in the Underworld, he could probably stand a few more minutes, or maybe hours. 

He wanted to make it up to Apollo. He still felt awfully guilty about betting on his survival for selfish purposes.   
He should really find some better ways to cope.   
_____________________________________  
  
Apollo sighed as he watched the clock, waiting for an opportunity to get ready for his appointment. He didn’t think he should be getting ready so early, but who would care?   
He shouldn’t be anxious over this. It didn’t matter anyways. 

What was he going to say to Jill? That he was attempting getting his boyfriend back from the dead? It would be confusing to explain, even the basic concept of it.   
But, Jill Menendez had seen a lot. A **lot.  
  
** The clock struck four, and he realized he had been spacing out. He might as well get dressed.   
_____________________________________  
  


Hermès blinked after he teleported across the Styx, disoriented. He hadn’t done that in a while. Charon was looking at him, disapprovingly. 

“Catch!” He took a drachma out of his pocket and threw it towards the old man, who caught it, bit it, and restored it to his pocket. 

Hermès smiled to himself, remembering the time he gave trick money, patented by himself, which blew up if you pressed hard enough. Charon never saw any of his pranks coming. 

But he had a job to do, he couldn’t be goofing off. He had to do this, for Apollo.   
Hell, for Hyacinthus as well. Any mortal that made his brother **that** lovestruck, must be special. 

Hermès supposed he would be pretty miserable too, if he was murdered violently.   
But hey, at least Hyacinthus had people coming for him! He just hoped the man wasn’t difficult, or too angry. Although, he’d be pretty angry if he were Hyacinthus.   
_____________________________________

Apollo appeared in the hallway, and started walking to the office. He hadn’t shaken his feeling of nervousness, and he wasn’t sure why he felt this way. 

It’s not like anything would happen during the meeting! And it would probably take Hermès several hours to even locate where Hyacinthus was, if he was down there. 

That didn’t make Apollo feel any better about it though.   
_____________________________________  
  
Hermès zipped past the various souls near the bank of the Styx, most looking faded, watery, wearing the same plain clothes. They didn’t look different in any form of the word, and he greatly hoped Hyacinthus was not one of them. If he was? Hermès didn’t want to think about it. 

He made his way towards the storage units (yeah, you just had to roll with it. The Underworld was weird.) 

The long, long lists of scrolls entailing all of the shades names and information lined the walls, some in crates. 

He was certain Hyacinthus would never have ended up in the Fields of Punishment, so it was either Asphodel or Elysium.   
He hoped it wasn’t Asphodel. There were so many people in there, it would take ages.

Then again, he hoped it wasn’t anywhere. He had nearly forgotten that he was looking for Hyacinthus not to be on any of the lists at all, still safe in his flower. 

He decided to skip Asphodel for the time being, skimming the Elysium lists and making a mental note to get someone to arrange it by death date, not name.   
Which sounded backwards, but he knew the exact date of Hyacinthus’ death. And you’d be surprised to see how many ancient names sounded like his. Mainly people from Corinth. 

Nearly two hours later, the Elysium lists were finished. Hyacinthus definitely was not on there. He nearly got exited when he saw ‘Hya’ but that turned out to be the full name. He pitied the poor person that ended up with that one. 

Now, Asphodel. He was gonna be there a while, wasn’t he?   
_____________________________________  
  


Apollo ended up not mentioning Hyacinthus, a feat he was oddly proud for. He wanted to forget it entirely. 

Hermès must still be searching, because he didn’t receive any word from his brother until he had sat down to relax. Or, attempt to at the least. 

“Hey, Apollo?”   
Oh no. No, no, no, no. Hermès sounded worried. That was never, ever a good sign.   
“I can’t find him on the Elysium list. Do you think he might be in Asphodel?” 

Oh thank the gods. Him? Why did he say that?  
“Maybe? I never exactly, ah, checked?”

“I may as well look, just to be sure. All good so far though.”   
No, this time he meant it fully. Thank the gods.

Especially Hermès. 

_____________________________________  
  


Hermès sighed as he hung up the phone.   
_Okay, Asphodel. Only several million people to get through, this shouldn’t be a problem._

He didn’t even bother to check the full list that time. He simply scrolled down to the ‘H’ section, regretting not making this digital beforehand. There could be a search bar or something, make this ten times faster, but nooo. 

He lost track of time. Then he realized the scrolls were set up like a dictionary. He could simply scroll to the ‘Hy’ part, and be done. 

No Hyacinthus. There was no Hyacinthus on any of those lists.   
He thanked someone, anyone that there wasn’t one, and that his hunt was over. 

He’d turned up with the best product possible.   
Empty handed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the chapter title is from Hadestown. no I don’t know what the Pleiades is.


	20. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter- I’m posting more today though

Apollo looked up, startled as Hermès appeared by his side. He looked out of breath.   
_Bad news_ _then, huh? I should’ve guessed.  
_

“He’s not down there.” A lopsided grin spread across his brother’s face. 

“He’s... you mean we can get him back?” He smiled too, equally, if not far more excited than Hermès. 

“Yeah, I think we can. And Apollo? I know how much this means to you. We’ll try our best, alright?”   
If Apollo had tears in his eyes, Hermès didn’t say anything. 

“Thank you. Now let’s bring my boyfriend back.”   
  



	21. Hope (and Artemis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They devise a plan. Artemis and Hermes come up with an interesting idea.

When Artemis received word of her brother's current project, she was shocked. You would be too if your brother was attempting to raise the dead. Or retracting a soul from a magical botanical bond. 

She was shocked. She wasn't aware Apollo still felt so strongly about the death and demise of his lover, but Hermes sounded earnest in his insistence that they had a plan. And that it was actually going to work. 

Artemis didn't believe them. She didn't think it was possible. She thought that this was likely **not** a good idea, since it would only cause Apollo more pain. Did he really want the commitment of it all? But he kept insisting that they had a plan, that they found a way. 

She was happy for him, truly she was. But she was worried. 

_____________________________________________________

They called Artemis near immediately, high on the adrenaline of their success. Apollo felt better than he had since.... probably before Hyacinthus died in the first place. It seemed that everything was finally falling into place.

_____________________________________________________

Artemis showed up soon after; they had asked her after all. She was still a bit concerned her brother might be taking things a bit too fast. 

"Are you absolutely certain this is going to work? Whatever you have in mind." 

Apollo looked confused. "What'd'you mean? He's not in the Underworld, he's still alive!"

Artemis sighed. Hermes picked at his hands. "Hermes, tell her what you told me!"

"I... I never said he was alive, just that his soul is not in Hades. It.. doesn't mean much. He could've been lost along the way, or maybe he's one of the souls at the river Styx, and I'm gonna stop talking now because I'm making this worse... right..." 

Apollo looked betrayed. "You told me..." 

"I'm sorry 'Pollo. There's no way to know. We just have to hope."   
  


The distraught in Apollo's voice turned to sarcasm. "Hope. We have to hope, don't we? I thought this was an actual opportunity, but I guess I'm wrong. Sorry."   
"Apollo, perhaps it's time to move on-" Apollo cut her off.

"Move on?? Move on? Artie, are you really looking at me and telling me to move on? As if I haven't thought of that, a million times?"   
"You think I really **want** to be like this? If I could have moved on, could have forgotten him, I would've. But I'm tired of pushing things aside. And I have hope that this is going to work. It has to work." 

Artemis sighed yet again. Her brother was right, it couldn't hurt to try. "Alright, alright. What did you have in mind?" 

______________________________________________________

Hermes and Apollo hadn't quite gotten to that part yet. They thought that Artemis would have ideas. She was smart, surely she'd figure something out. 

"You don't have anything?? Apollo, if we're going to get together and do this, I expected at least a few ideas from you." 

"Yeah Apollo"-Hermes chimed in-"We expected more from you." 

Apollo elbowed him. 

"Well, let's brainstorm. Asclepius is out of the question- we don't have a body for him to operate on anyway. So..... what now?"

Hermes looked as though a light-bulb had lit up inside his skull. "Stupid question, but you know the golden fleece?" 

"Obviously Hermes, but that was lost... how many years ago? Since Jason. The other Jason, not Jason Grace. So no, can't use that one." 

Artemis would've smacked him if he wasn't already in a very vulnerable emotional state. "Apollo." 

"What?"  
"They, the heroes found it. It's currently at Camp Half Blood. That's what revived my lieutenant, Thalia. And she was a pine tree, remember?" 

Something clicked inside Apollo's mind. 

"If... if Thalia was.. well if she was a plant, do you think...?" 

"It could work." She put her hands on his shoulders, grounding him in the moment. He was grateful, he would've collapsed otherwise. 

"It will work." Hermes spoke up. "We.. we'll make it work."

"And if it doesn't?" 

"It will."


	22. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo prepares to visit Camp Half Blood, alone. 
> 
> you know, I've noticed this a lot, but how come toa fics barely ever have Apollo in them? He's literally the main character.

When they started making plans to go to Camp Half Blood, Artemis knew she had to leave. She wasn't nervous about going or anything, she was reminded of her young hunters, still waiting for her in Canada. 

So she left. Apollo was disappointed, he deeply wanted his sister to be there for it all. Hermes was great, he was awesome; but he wasn't quite as close to Hermes as he was to Artemis. He loved his little brother, but they didn't have the same connection. 

They had made plans to request the fleece from Camp Half Blood. Apollo half worried that they wouldn't give it to him, but he was friends with Chiron; he had practically raised the centaur and they had been on close terms ever since. Which made it a tiny bit weird that Apollo saw him as a sort of father figure, but what can you do. His son (one of his godly sons, mind you, Will is a child.) was fucking his dad's (Zeus') lover, nothing could get weirder than that. 

Hermes seemed wary of visiting, which made sense since he never really went, claimed his kids from afar and was generally absent in the lives of demigods. He chalked it up to overworking, but Apollo was 99% sure he was just scared to visit. Which again, seems weird but his kid did almost start the second Titan war. He was afraid they'd be angry and bitter, so he stayed away, which made it all worse, and it was an endless cycle. 

And Hermes cared for his kids. Truly, he did. Apollo thought he just didn't know how to show it.   
Apollo was far more present in the demigods schedules. ( _Do they have those? I'm pretty sure their is one for daily activities, but what do I know?_ ) A lot, actually, he **was** the god of knowledge.   
(A lot of people, including himself, seemed to forget this. Smarts are always attributed to Athena, but he is the actual god for it.) 

Apollo was snapped out of his trance by Hermes' discontinued talking. He hadn't been paying attention, but the silence seemed off.   
"I can't go, I mean... What am I even going to do?! Show up and be like 'hey kids that I've been neglecting, how's life?' that would just be weird! Besides"- He patted Apollo on the back -"You should be the one to bring him back to life or whatever. I would just get in the way anyways." 

Apollo knew full well this was an excuse to get out of visiting camp, but he played along anyway. If Hermes really went out of his way to avoid Camp Half Blood, he thought it was best to leave him alone about it. They'd talk later. (if everything went well.) 

"No, no, It's okay. yeah, I probably should do this alone, he won't recognize you anyway." Hermes nodded quickly, wringing his hands together, and disappeared. Apollo sighed. He supposed he'd have to do it himself then. 

He felt bad for Hermes, but also understood if his children held a grudge. He loved his brother, but he knew that Hermes needed to take some accountability when it came to parenting. If he didn't the situation would simply get worse until it spiraled out of control. 

He breathed in deeply, stood up straight, and willed himself to appear near the border of Camp Half Blood.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing he noticed was the warmth in the air. Oh, how he had missed camp's magical weather protection! Of course, he could make his own personal Spring or Summer wherever he went, but Demeter glared at him when he did and you do not want an angry wheat goddess staring you down when you're on your way to one of Hestia's house warming parties. It dampened the mood even more than her apple juice, which she poured out for guests. Because 'wine hurts you!' Ganymede showed up once, took one look at the place, and left. Apollo didn't blame him. 

Anyyyywaaaayyssss.... The gentle spring, summer (?) breeze pushed his hair behind his ears. Then it blew so hard a stick hit him on the left side of his head. 

So yeah, Zephyrus didn't like him. That was completely fine, the bastard was too much of a coward to even face Apollo after what he did. 

What he did. Apollo was literally here to reverse what he did. 

It was all his fault. Zephyr (Apollo) killed him. If it wasn't for him (Apollo) Hyacinthus would still be alive! Apollo loathed Zephyr for what he (Apollo) did.   
( ** _You threw the discus. He warned you of the storm! You did this._** ) 

Apollo pushed his own thoughts behind him. If it was true that he was at fault, he needed to fix it. This would fix it. 

Maybe. 


	23. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo goes to get some help from his kids (+ Chiron)

As soon as he came into view of the cabins, Will jogged up to him.  
"It's been a while." "It has, hasn't it?"

He noticed his hands were shaking slightly, and pushed them back into his pockets. Will smiled. He looked older somehow, though he hadn't aged since his father's last visit. It was likely from the most recent quest he and Nico had been dragged into going on. Quests do that to you.   
Will's eyes looked tired, like he had been up all night in the infirmary. Apollo knew that look, he looked like that whenever he spent too much energy healing someone. 

"What happened?" He asked, because he was concerned. He hadn't heard of any attacks on Camp Half Blood, and there were certainly no more wars, but something was up.   
"Harley, the little kid from Hephaestus? He... I'll tell you later." 

Hesitation was never good. Apollo knew something deeply wrong must have happened, but he hoped his imagination was just running rampant. It hadn't occurred to him that the demigods might be struggling at the moment. He was too wrapped up in his own endeavors, which were still important, but not immediate. 

"Is there anything I can do?"   
"Only if you can raise the dead." Will shook his head and Apollo's stomach dropped to his toes. 

What cruel irony he was being asked that as he searched for a way to raise his dead. Harley was so young, barely ten. No one should die that young.   
Unfortunately, the golden fleece likely couldn't help any. This was a special occasion, and the god wasn't even sure it would work. 

Will looked at him. "So... what's up?" 

He felt embarrassed to even say. His trouble seemed so small compared to the bombshell Will had just given him.  
"I'm.... is Chiron here?" He hoped the centaur was. He didn't think he could admit anything else to his son. 

"Yeah, he should be in the Big House. I'm gonna go take a nap, alright? Long shift." Will pointed over to the large farmhouse that served as Dionysus and Chiron's home at the moment, and started making his way to his cabin. 

"Go rest!" He called after Will. 

It was time to see if this would work. Anxiety ate its way through Apollo's stomach, leaving him hungry, scared, and looking very, very young. His hair was somewhere between blond and brown, he seemed shorter, younger, as he knocked on the door. 

Chiron opened it. Without looking, he said; "Will, please go get some sleep. I already told you, there's nothing left to be-" he cut himself off, seeing Apollo. 

"... Hello Chiron." It sounded more like a question than a greeting. The wrinkles showed on Chiron's face as he smiled down towards him. 

"Apollo, hello. Is there a reason you're visiting?"  
"Actually? Yes." 


	24. Hyacinth Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They work towards getting Hyacinthus back.

"And what would that be?" Chiron asked him, his eyebrow quirking upwards towards his graying hair. 

"Well.." Apollo took a deep breath, preparing to be shot down, "I heard that the golden fleece was found a while ago, I was hoping I could... borrow it?" 

"Of course! I mean, what for?" 

"It's a bit personal, if you don't mind, I'll just return it tomorrow?" 

Chiron looked concerned, but didn't say anything, just nodded. Apollo felt vaguely guilty for not telling him what he was up to, but he really did not want to be the center of attention at the moment. Not when the camp was so clearly in distress. 

He took the fleece and left. It somehow didn't feel right, like he should be worrying about something else at the moment, but he desperately wanted this and he needed to take the opportunity. And he definitely did not want to do it at camp. 

Not only would that be weird for the campers, who really had no idea about Hyacinthus' existence, it would be awkward for Apollo to. Hell, it would probably freak out Hyacinthus!  
And there was always the possibility that it didn't work. That would give him something to talk about in therapy.

So he'd do it somewhere private, secluded, hopefully not while being watched. He didn't want his tearful reunion to be spied upon by his family. And he wasn't even letting Artemis or Hermes watch. It would be just for him, just for them, no one else. 


	25. Near

One problem. Where would he even find such a place? He supposed he could maybe do it in his palace, but there was always a chance of the muses or someone walking in or disturbing them... him. 

He mulled the possibilities over. He definitely wasn’t doing it in the Sun Palace, that was not personal enough in the slightest. But no one had really left him alone to himself since his return to godhood. 

Then again, he **could** just make a place. Yes, he had nearly forgotten he had the ability to create things out of thin air. And Hyacinthus would probably react best in a place he was used to, so a villa it was. 

Of course, Hyacinthus didn’t live in one normally, but in the last few months they had shared, they had a cottage near the field where he died. Apollo thought it best that he try to replicate that, to ease him into the world. 

He’d create an exact replica, for he still remembered it clearly, how could he forget, that was the best two months of his life!   
And when he lost it, he felt like he’d never find love that deep and pure again.

And he never did. It was true what they said, that he’d never gotten over Hyacinthus. Of course, many people pegged Daphne as his one true love, but now that he had gone through that time as a mortal? Even thinking about trying to romanticize his actions made him nauseous. He wasn’t in love, he was obsessed. It was purely fabricated, made by Eros to play with his feelings, and play he did.

But Hyacinthus was.. different, in a way. At the time, he had been hesitant to offer immortality to the prince, because of their inability to be married, but he was going to ask. For his birthday. A birthday that never came. 

Now, creating a picture perfect replica of their abode in his mind, warping it into exsistence and seeing back together the fabric of reality, he knew that if he had the chance to see his lover again, there would be absolutely no hesitation.   
He needed Hyacinthus, needed him badly, to be by his side once more. 


	26. Doubt Comes In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He begins to doubt

The villa was finished. Their was no going back now, no matter how he felt anxiety creep into his gut. What if something went wrong? What if it didn’t work? What if, worst of all, Hyacinthus was angered with him? 

He had known that was a possibility, yes, they had argued sometimes, but that was a fear of his he had been harboring on to. If Hyacinthus was mad at him, mad at him for everything? 

What if the man didn’t understand the order of events that had happened, that it wasn’t truly Apollo that had killed him? 

What if he didn’t want to be with Apollo anymore?   
They were reasonable questions, reactions, and that alone scared him. If Hyacinthus reacted poorly, how could he blame him? 

He would need to accept his fate. Their fate. Whatever it may be. 


	27. No

But did he want to? No. 

He would much rather have maintained his mindset from before his trials, before he had seen sacrifice, before he realized that love can come from anywhere. This would be so much easier if he was the old Apollo, he thought, as he draped the fleece over a chair and sat down.

He missed this place. It reeked of longing for life, things he thought he'd never experience. How could he? How, when life formed at his fingertips, as though on command. How, when he himself had never chased life, only beseeched it. Beseeched it to stay, to stay with him, often not for his gain, but for the others he'd loved. 

He realized now, that all the people, all of them, that he hurt, deserved justice. It was unfortunate that he couldn't bring it. But he didn't want his guilt to stop him from taking this chance, for happiness.

He stood up once more, not taking the fleece but going outdoors, out back, near the glen that he had made, a replica of times far better than these. 

His hands shook. He could feel sweat building on his upper lip. It reminded him of his time as Lester. (He'd have to explain that to Hyacinthus, wouldn't he...) 

His breathing, surprisingly, was steady as he knelt on the ground and dug with his fingertips. 

He hated doing this. He hated creating one, and then feeling the same guilt and pain and dread that rose with it. 

A hyacinth bloomed.

He walked back inside. 

The fleece was right where he had left it, on the chair. His hands were steady now as looked at it, and remembered that Hyacinthus would not recognize him, not while he looked like this.   
He had nearly forgotten in his exitement that Hyacinthus was from an entirely different time, and it would likely scare him to be thrust into the modern world. 

Luckily, Apollo remembered what he used to look like. 

The body felt comfortable, from the memories attached to it. He oftentimes changed appearance when talking to people. He had an Olympus form, a 'I'm talking to Zeus and I'm scared out of my mind but he wants me to be macho', many bodies attached to different people, etc. 

This body felt like Hyacinthus. Like home. It made all their days a little more clear, he could remember the little things with instinct. 

He ran his hands down the chiton, shorter and more easily equipped for physical movement. He had put this on to play the discus, he remembered, he had helped Hyacinthus into his own.   
Oh, if only they had stayed inside! He could still hear his lover teasing him about taking a bit too long to help him with the clothes. If only he had taken him up on his offer. 

He walked back outside, this time with the fleece. 

A hyacinth still bloomed where he had left it. 

He wanted to do this. He would fix it. 

His hands were steady. It all felt like a breath of fresh air. He was reminded of what being human was. 

He knelt down, placing the fleece carefully next to him. 

He wished he could do this for the others. 

This would be so much easier if he was the old Apollo. If he could be overly confident, in his abilities.

But did he really want that? No. 


	28. Yes

Gently, slowly, he laid the fleece atop of the flower. And he sat, a few feet away, waiting. 

Why hadn't he asked how long this took? Dread bubbled in his stomach as a minute passed. Then two. Then three. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes.   
If this didn't work, he simply could not do it anymore. He would finally breakdown, probably cause another plague, and destroy some cities. 

He did not look up from his hands, which he held in his lap. Fear filled his heart. 

He did not look up, no.

Until the fleece was glowing. 

It was glowing, getting brighter and brighter, until he was forced to protect his eyes with godly power to watch. And he watched. He watched as a silhouetted figure rose from the flower, into the glow, and then fell. 

He couldn't move. He wanted to move, wanted it desperately, wanted to see what was going on and if it had worked. 

The figure stood. 

Gravity, or was it his own shock, forced him to his knees. The figure walked towards him, curious. 

As it approached, Apollo realized it was speaking. 

He knew that voice. 

He understood those words. 

The tears rolled down his cheeks. They must have built up too strong. Vaguely, he understood that he was in shock, and that he needed to calm down.   
He couldn't make out the words the man was speaking, (Hyacinthus! That's Hyacinthus, a voice inside him screamed, but he didn't hear it.) but he knew the voice. He knew the concerned tone, the cautious approach in every word. 

When Hyacinthus kneeled in front of him, something inside him broke. He could move. He could understand. 

"Ἀπόλλων? Are you alright?" 

His name. That was his name, that was who he was, and it was coming from.. it was coming from.. 

He was touching Hyacinthus, when he reached in front of him. 

"What happened?" 

He found his tongue. "What?" 

"What happened? I.. you were showing me how to play, remember? And I was teasing you about not being able to reach that tree, the big one near that lake? And you threw it, I ran and... well that's all I remember." 

He threw his arms around Hyacinthus, openly sobbing. Now the prince was understandably worried.   
"I.. what's the matter, love? I don't understand.."

He was not going to explain it out here. He didn't want to explain it at all. He had to, but he could do it inside, where they were safe, and he could hold Hyacinthus in peace.   
"Inside. I'll.. please, please come inside." 

Hyacinthus only nodded, taking his hand and guiding him inside. 

They walked towards the bedroom. His hands were shaking again, even as Hyacinthus sat him down, held his hands, and waited for him to answer. Apollo couldn't bear to look up at him. He'd surely cry seeing those concerned eyes, violet with the sunlight hitting them. 

"You don't have to tell me, it's alright. Do you wanna lay down?"   
He shook his head. He had to do this. 

"I.. threw the discus, and you ran to get it."  
"Mhmm..?"

"The wind.. it. It hit you. It bounced off the ground and hit you." He reached up to move Hyacinthus' hair, trace the scar with his fingers. Hyacinthus was silent, it seemed like he was unaware of the injury. 

"What hit me?"  
"The discus.. it flew and hit you, the wind must have changed. I ran towards you but.. there was.. there was nothing I could do. I even tried nectar. Nothing worked. I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to-" 

Hyacinthus cut him off, placing a finger to his lips.   
"It's okay, shhh, it's okay. You tried to save me, it's alright."

Apollo was not deterred.   
"Are you mad at me? 

"Of course I'm not mad at you, don't worry. Why don't we lay down, huh? Wanna lay down?" 

He did indeed. 


	29. Comfort

Laying down was probably the best choice, it allowed him further access to Hyacinthus, more of him to wrap his arms around and hold like he'd disappear any second. Which, in Apollo's mind, was definitely possible. Hyacinthus was running his fingers through Apollo's hair, and the god felt a sense of safety, like his need for physical contact had been satisfied. Which, by the way, was not something he was even aware of needing. But it sure felt nice, having his lover there to be the one to fill it. 

His arms were wrapped around the middle of Hyacinthus' back, holding on like he was the only thing anchoring him to the Earth. He felt like that, too. Like he would simply float away into the clouds if he could not reach out to feel warm skin next to him. 

He felt he could lay there forever, burying his head into Hyacinthus' shoulder, letting him play with his hair and whisper words of comfort that he did not deserve. He should be comforting Hyacinthus, he realized, he should be holding him gently in his arms as he cried. Not the other way around, he should be stronger than this. He should be better than this. 

But he was not. And Hyacinthus did not seem to mind, murmuring about how it was all going to be okay, and that he loved him. It just made Apollo sob a little harder, that Hyacinthus loved him. The fear of resentment from his lover was washed away in the soft kisses pressed to his forehead, and he noticed that he hadn't even kissed Hyacinthus properly yet. That wouldn't do. 

It was almost chaste, compared to the other times they had embraced, but his cheeks were wet with tears and he felt paralyzed. It was not devoid of emotion, no, certainly not. He mustered as much 'I missed you' to convey in the kiss, barely even capturing the other's lips, but it was fixed when Hyacinthus cupped his face and brought him closer. 

Hyacinthus was smiling and he realized that he wasn’t crying, not then. How could he ever when Hyacinthus looked at him so tenderly. No, he wasn’t crying. Affection so powerful it swept over him in waves, drowning him in his own love, came over him. 

He realized he could explain all of this tomorrow. All of it could be done tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to fall asleep on Hyacinthus’ chest, tracking the steady rise and fall, listening to his heartbeat.


	30. Morning

For a sun god, Apollo hated mornings.   
Or, he hated having to wake up early and then get on with his miserable chores again. It was like he was still being punished. 

Even so, he had had quite the dream. Not that he could remember what it was. Something about.... a fuzzy thing? And love. 

He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to get up again just to go through the motions like everyday. Without looking, he reached for his phone, which should have been on the end table. 

There was no end table.   
_That’s... weird. I don’t remember renovating._ He sighed. His breathing sounded louder than usual, for reasons he could not muster. 

_That’s not me._ He realized, for when he held his breath there was still the sound of breathing. 

_Damnit am I drunk? I better not have brought someone home._

He shifted his body, and noticed that there was indeed another person in the bed. He looked around. 

This was not his palace. His room in their was huge, this was cozy, and very, very old. He hadn’t seen a room like this in... who was the person anyway? 

His head felt groggy, and he turned around. 

_No. No way. No._ He was hallucinating, he had to be. The man laying asleep looked exactly like.. like... 

“Mmm.. ‘πόλλων?” He was awake now, apparently. 

The events of the day previous rushed back to him as he recognized the voice.   
Hyacinthus was alive. He was alive, and he was here, in their old villa, and-

“Yes, love?”   
“Don’t you have to.. rise the sun?” 

Right. He should, ah.. probably explain. 

“Well I don’t really.. need to, and I’d rather not right now, if that’s okay.”   
“Oh.” Hyacinthus sighed lightly. “Come back, I’m cold.” 

He was cold himself, and how could he ever deny his lover something like that. 


	31. Today

This day was.. different, somehow. Not a bad kind of different, just different in the way that it made Apollo's anxiety be amplified, different in the way that Hyacinthus was not smiling his brilliant smiles, but had his face drawn into a serious expression, the kind one would wear when they learned their kingdom was under attack. 

Something had to change, Apollo knew, but he couldn't tell what. Of course there were the obvious things, like how he needed to break the truth to Hyacinthus, how he needed to do his job, needed to get back to Olympus, needed to ask the most terrifying question possible. 

See, Hyacinthus was alive, but he was still mortal. Any little thing could take him away again, and he had certainly made some enemies. So when Apollo got the call from Chiron that their weather barriers were entirely broken, he couldn't say he was surprised. It wouldn't be true. 

They were still sitting on the bed, phone hanging in Apollo's loose grip, and Hyacinthus put a hand on his shoulder. 

"What do we need to do?" He asked. It wasn't a question, not really. What needed to be done, he was wondering, and he was sure as hell gonna do it. 

"I should explain."

Hyacinthus looked at him, waiting for news. Bad news, good news, news. 

"It's been... a long time since I've seen you. Millennia." He expected Hyacinthus to pale, to get angry, to do anything, but he didn't. He simply sat there, and listened. 

"Over the years, demigods have formed their own... training facilities, to protect themselves. The person who just spoke to me is the.. king of this training camp. We, the gods, have been protecting these camp borders for a long time. No one but demigods, and us, can get in or out. Your arrival... some people have figured out that you're back. There's no nice way to say this, but Zephyr is likely out to get you. To get us." 

He paused for a moment, but Hyacinthus only nodded. "I figured as much."

"He can't.. He was banned from being near me, even seeing me, Hyacinthus. Which means as long as you're with me, he can't get you either. So he'll attack the next best thing. These are children he's threatening. My children." 

He again expected something. A negative reaction. He didn't want one of course, but human emotions are.. complex. He wasn't sure whether the thought of him having kids would make Hyacinthus upset. 

"I understand. We have to help them."

"I have to help them. I can't let anything happen to you."

"You are not doing this on your own. I caused this, I have to fix it!" 

"I can't loose you again, alright! I can't... I-" He cut himself off. He wanted to curl into a tiny ball and cry for everything that had happened. Cry for all that he's done, cry for the tragedies, cry. 

But he couldn't. He knew that. He had to be strong, for himself and for his kids and for Hyacinthus, but he wanted it all to go away. Instead, Hyacinthus wrapped his arms around Apollo's waist, letting him lay his head on his shoulder, and if there were tears in his eyes? No one saw them. 


	32. Prepare

“You should probably get some new clothes.”   
Hyacinthus stared at him, seemingly confused as to why he would be asking such a thing, especially right after they had just made plans to rescue his kids, which by the way, he had. 

“The dirt?” Right, he probably thought it wa star mud and grass stains on his toga that were the problem. More explaining. 

“No, the uh.. fashions have changed. There’s pants now, you should try them.”   
Hyacinthus blinked once, twice, as thought trying to process the information. It reminded Apollo of Mr. McClean, how he had a somehow managed to shove down his own emotions for the sake of Piper.   
It also reminded him of that embarrassing celebrity crush deal he had going on there. 

“Pants are... what?”   
“They’re like.. leg armor. For everyday use.” 

To his surprise, Hyacinthus immediately began laughing.   
“Leg armor?... like the Persians? What’s next, physical tests are mandatory for old men and the aulos is not played at banquets?” 

Ooh. This.. this might be worse than Apollo thought.

”Yeah.. umm.. anyways.. The people in this, ah.. kingdom, have very strict traditions with that kind of stuff. They might not take it very well if you don’t wear the proper... leg garments?” 

A lightbulb must have clicked in Hyacinthus’ head, because he nodded.   
“Oh, it’s tradition? I understand. And we are going to help them, right? So it will be best to wear the proper gear of their land.” 

Well, maybe he better just leave the explaining for later. They needed to get moving, before anything progressed. But he really did need to ask Hyacinthus something.   
  


It would have to wait, for the phone rang again. Hyacinthus stared at it quizzically. 

“Hurry, we’re—attack—border down!” It was Chirons voice, frantically giving orders in the background. It cut in and out, and hung up suddenly, like the power lines had gone down around the area. Come to think of it, they probably had. 

Hyacinthus stopped his confusion as he saw the panicked look on Apollo’s face.   
“We need to go, now. Just, it doesn’t matter what clothes you have anymore. Come on!” 

“Slow down, slow down. Where is this place?”   
“We’re gonna have to.. I’ve done this with you, haven’t I? Teleport.” 

“That thing where you show up out of nowhere and scare me? Yeah, I know.”   
“We’re gonna have to do it together. Uh.. take my hand?”  
(Wow, now was not the time to get flustered by holding hands with someone you’ve done much more intimate things with. Way to go, Apollo.) 

**Author's Note:**

> I know that technically, as of Tower of Nero, his canon age is 4,613, but this takes place a few years after that. 
> 
> Apollo has a shit ton of trauma and legit issues that are rarely mentioned in TOA so I take it upon myself to fix that.


End file.
